


Cat Calls

by antic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Animal Transformation, Cat Dean, Curses, Cute, Fluff, Gen, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 20:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antic/pseuds/antic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bastet must be laughing so hard right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Needed to take my mind off some heavy stuff. And how else do that without some heavy fluff?

It happened overnight. There was no other way. Sam definitely would’ve noticed if his brother suddenly turned into an animal right in front of his eyes. So that’s the only explanation. When he woke up in the middle of a nightmare, he had no idea what caused it. At first. Then something warm, soft and fuzzy rubbed against his face. Startled, he was just about to fall out of bed when he heard a meow. It sounded suspiciously like his name. He loosened the grip on the knife under his pillow after running through all the possible monsters that could meow in his head and coming up empty. Instead he switched on the bedside lamp and right there, on the pillow, sat a small lump of nut–brown fur. With exceptionally huge green eyes. That looked unsettlingly familiar. And angry. The kitten meowed again and until now he had no idea they were able to do it with such indignation.

“Dean?” it sounded crazy the minute it left his mouth, but something wasn’t right. He glanced at the bed closer to the door. It was empty. The light in the bathroom wasn’t on. And that thing stole his brother’s eyes! And right now it was doing a fairly adequate impression of a person rolling them in exasperation. Then it nodded. “Oh, God. You’re a cat. No, you’re not even a cat. You’re a kitten. You’re little. You’re– Goddamnit!”

The little thing – Dean, Dean! – flinched at the sudden outburst.

“I told you not to touch it!”

The creature, his brother, hissed in what was probably his new way of contradicting Sam. Trust him to find one as soon as possible.

“How are we supposed to finish it now? It’s a two man job!”

Dean started meowing furiously, then seemed to realize it had no effect, so instead he swayed ungracefully to the bedside table, falling down twice on his way over, and stretched out a paw, indicating Sam’s cell.

Sam found it extremely hard to be mad at his brother when he looked the way he did. He decided to roll his eyes instead.

“I’m not completely clueless, Dean,” he said and hell, it was ridiculous, talking to a tiny furball that was supposed to be his big brother. His brother, who was now pointedly looking at him. Sam settled back in the covers then and couldn’t help himself but to grab Dean by his middle. He almost laughed out loud when his brother’s eyes basically bulged out of his tinny skull and he made an undignified squeak. Then started to wave his paws uselessly around when Sam picked him up in the air. He could fit him entirely in the palm of his hand. Dean would never hear the end of this if they managed to bring him back to normal. Which they were absolutely going to do, no other option.

Raising his still wiggling brother up to his eyelevel, he said, “I’ll call Bobby in the morning. It’s too late now to bother him.”

He smiled at the way Dean was glaring at him and expanding his little claws in efforts of digging them into Sam’s flesh. That was not gonna happen. His brother hissed and it didn’t faze Sam at all, only bringing him to the edge of awing. He still had some dignity, though, so he suppressed the urge and only ran his finger over Dean’s ears. He was so warm and adorable and he just wanted to smother him with hugs. Like those would even be possible with the newfound size difference. He didn’t even care it was his no–chick–flick–moments brother. Right now it was a smushy ball of cuteness and if it didn’t mean the risk of losing an eye, Sam would so totally nuzzle the silky fur. And then, in a blink, using his moment of distraction, Dean bent his spine unnaturally and slid out of his hold. For something so wobbly and still so unstable on its feet, he was fast. Before Sam had time to process what happened, there was a small lump under the covers, running in circles.

“Dean, come on,” he tried persuading and slid his hand after his brother to get him out. He pulled it out quickly with a hiss when the bastard scratched it. “Okay, sorry. But it’s not my fault you’re now officially the mother of all squishiness,” he tried defending himself. He caught a glimpse of an uncertain pair of eyes peeking from under the blanket. Oh, his nose was so tiny!

Dean meowed. Sam melted.

“Dean, please,” he outright whined. “Come on, I wanna pet you.”

Apparently that wasn’t the right thing to say. His brother hissed and disappeared again. Few seconds after that, he heard a thump when Dean fell off the bed. Sam leaned over so he could watch him claw into the covers of his own bed to climb onto it.

“Aww,” this time he couldn’t help it. He giggled when his brother spun around and coughed at him angrily. He then proceeded to ostentatiously knead the pillow before slumping in the soft spot with his back turned on Sam. Looking at the steady up and down of his breaths for a while, he finally turned the lights off and went back to sleep himself, hoping tomorrow everything would turn out to be a dream.

 

 

It didn’t. At the ass crack of dawn, something coarse licked his ear. Then something small and silky poked him in the eyelid. He furrowed his brow and tried to smack it. His hand hit something delicate and fragile that squeaked. The noise made him instantly vigilant. He sat up and looked around. His eyes fell upon a small kitten. Now in the daylight it seemed even more impossible. But in an odd way it really looked freakishly like his brother. The fur was the color of Dean’s hair and the irises emanated even more green than usual, even if the pupils were vertical. And the look in his eyes was accusatory.

“Sorry,” he murmured. Deciding not to dwell in hard feelings, Dean bounced to Sam’s cell. “Okay, I’m calling.”

Rubbing his face and yawning, he picked Bobby’s number.

“What?” came a gruff response.

“I wake you?”

“Boy, I’m still up.”

“Oh, okay,” he sighed. “So, remember that Bastet’s vase?”

“Yep. The artifact.”

“Dean touched it.”

Bobby groaned.

“You dumb lot. What happened?”

“Long story short, he’s a cat.”

“A cat,” Bobby repeated flatly.

“A kitten, actually,” Sam smirked. “A really cute one at that,” he added, just to piss Dean off. It worked, judging from the huff he got in return. Bobby cackled, but almost instantly grew serious again.

“Wait, how are you gonna do the ritual, then?”

“That’s the thing,” Sam shook his head. “I kinda thought you could come down here and help us.”

“I’ll be there in three days.”

“Three days?!” he screeched. Dean buried his head under his paws. Sam stroked him in apology. He got another scratch for his efforts.

“Be glad I’m coming at all, you idjits,” grumbled Bobby. “I got a job to wrap up first.”

“We’re staying at the Cattus Motel.”

“Well, ain’t that ironic.”

“Tell me about it,” Sam snorted. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The line went silent. He threw the phone on the bed and put his feet on the ground, rightly assuming he wouldn’t get any more sleep. Before he stood up, though, he felt something jump on his back. He turned his head and saw Dean nosing at the cell, sending him questioning glances.

“Yeah, I guess you’re stuck like that for three days.”

His brother’s eyes went wide.

“Serves you right.”

Dean pointed his one paw with the other.

“So what? I told you gloves wouldn’t be enough. Now you pay the price.”

He stood up and went to the bathroom, trusting Dean not to hurt himself. They should be safe. No monsters, ghosts or suspicious activities in town. And good, because in the state he was in, his brother could simply end up trampled on the sidewalk.

When he walked back into the room, still dripping from the shower and with a towel around his hips, he found Dean losing a battle with a chair. He was hanging from the seat, his bottom half dangling in the air, barely held up by the upper part. His short, tiny tail was wiggling furiously, like it could somehow help climb higher.

Before he had time to think, Sam strode over to the table and picked Dean up, settling him on it. His brother meowed again, blinking owlishly up at him. Then he sprinted towards the laptop ( _two front paws, two back paws, two front paws, to back paws_ ) and bit it.

“You’re adorable,” Sam stated and opened the screen, ignoring Dean’s hiss of righteous indignation. Getting the idea, he started the notebook. His brother threw himself at the keyboard vigorously. When he studied it intently from his spot on the touchpad, the end of his tail swayed hypnotically. Sam smoothed a finger over it. Dean shook it spastically. Then he reached for the keyboard.

 

_m lpee_

 

For a while Sam tried deciphering the message.

“You want to pee?” he asked finally. Dean nodded with his whole body and started typing again.

 

_esat_

 

“What?”

 

Dean let out a puff of air that sounded suspiciously like an irritated sigh.

 

_eat_

 

“Oh, okay,” Sam said and gathered his brother in his hands. Dean went rigid when he pressed him against his chest. The velvety fur tickled his bare skin. But apparently Dean was too afraid of falling down to even squirm properly, allowing them both to get in the bathroom unscathed.

With a last pat, Sam let him down in the bathtub.

“Do your business. Holler when you’re done,” he turned around, leaving his brother to it. Not long after, he heard quiet tapping behind his back. Checking what it was, he discovered Dean trying to get out of the bathtub by himself and failing spectacularly. His paws kept sliding down the sides and whenever he tried jumping out, he was slipping before he even started.

Sam rolled his eyes and unceremoniously picked him up again. By now his brother looked defeated. He curled up in a tight ball in his hand, only his tail swaying uncontrollably.

“We’re gonna go eat in a second,” announced Sam and reluctantly dropped Dean on the bed. He pulled something randomly out of his duffel and threw it on, finding his unaware brother pawing at an innocent tassel distractedly, following it with an almost hypnotized gaze. He let himself enjoy the view for a while, storing blackmail material in the back of his head. Finally his brother seemed to realize something wasn’t right and guiltily stopped harassing the covers when he caught Sam’s gaze.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” he chuckled. “And if you want to go with me, you go in my pocket, understood?”

Dean nodded, although Sam suspected he didn’t really do it that willingly. When his brother was safely tucked away in his jacket, Sam mused, “What do kittens eat anyway?”

The answer came in the form of claws.

“Hey! I’m just looking out for you. Don’t want you to bite it because of some minor indigestion.”

Dean’s head peeked out from the pocket, ears glued to his head, and glared at him. Sam laughed and closed the door behind them.

 

 

When they settled in the booth in the diner, Dean scrambled out of his pocket as fast as he could.

“Dean!” Sam chided. “Get back in here! Animals aren’t allowed in places like that!”

But it was too late. The waitress already spotted him. Sam started standing up, forestalling her reprimand, but instead he got a coo.

What?

“So adorable!” she twittered. “Can I?” she stretched her hand towards Dean. Sam sighed in relief and smiled.

“Of course.”

Sam had no idea animals could look smug until the girl started petting his brother. And that just sounded wrong. When Dean rolled over for her to start scratching his belly, Sam decided it was enough.

“Could–”

“Is it a boy or a girl?” she interrupted him.

“Boy,” Sam gritted out through a smile.

“Aww,” now she was full on smothering Dean. “What’s your name, buddy?” like his brother could really answer her.

“His name’s Dean.”

“Dean, huh?” she smiled and picked his brother up, kissing him between the ears. Dean stretched out his paws and actually started _purring_ with his lids half closed. “I like it. I was expecting something along the lines of Mr. Fluffington, but I guess there are still normal people on this planet, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “I guess.”

Maybe he wouldn’t be so angry with this girl for killing Dean with love if he’d be allowed to at least hold him without risking a bloody injury. It was unfair how cute he was. And it was human instinct to want to just devour something that sweet and _adowable_.

“Technically he shouldn’t be allowed here,” the waitress started. Here we go, thought Sam. “But I don’t think he’d be able to do much damage, right, cutie?” she turned her attention to Dean again. Sam could only imagine what was going on in his head. He could almost hear his ego growing. Maybe this whole thing ain’t half bad, huh, Sammy?

“I’ll keep him close,” Sam promised.

“I’ll get him some milk,” the waitress announced and laughed heartily when Dean started kneading her impressive rack. “And for you?”

The only thing Sam wanted was for Dean to stop being a pervert, but that wouldn’t happen. And he’d look like a crazy person for trying to reason with a cat.

“Black coffee and a short stack, thanks,” he said and eyed his brother warily.

“Coming right up,” she winked at him and put Dean back on the table. His brother meowed unhappily, making the girl laugh again. The moment she went back to the counter, Sam grabbed Dean by the skin on his neck – with _two fingers_ – and brought them close face to face.

“Seriously, Dean? Really? You gonna molest an unaware girl? How low is that?” he growled. Dean licked his nose. Sam twitched and stared at his brother, looking all pathetic and innocent in his grip. A small paw thwacked him on the cheek. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to hold on to the indignation. But Dean played dirty and he knew it. Big emerald orbs awaited him when he heard the waitress come back.

“Here’s coffee for you and here’s a saucer for the little tomcat,” she smiled delightfully, tickled Dean’s ear and left. Sam dropped his brother on the table. He shouldn’t have done that. The second his brother’s limbs hit the surface he scrambled for the coffee. Before Sam managed to drag him away, he got away with a few licks, managing to almost fall inside the cup.

“I was serious, you moron,” he snapped. “You could die!”

Dean snorted, huffed and proudly turned around to sip his milk. Even his tail looked like it was flipping Sam off. Then the food arrived. After letting go of the plate, the waitress stroked Dean from head to toe one more time.

“I want to steal him from you so bad,” she complained with a smile. And even if it was meant as a joke, Sam froze. “Always wanted a kitty, but the closest shelter is miles from here. Where did you get this lucky baby?”

He laughed nervously.

“It just kind of happened,” he could almost feel Dean’s mocking stare.

“He’s great,” she scratched his brother under the chin. “I’m so jealous,” she stated and left. He watched her go, swaying her hips. Then he found Dean trying to climb into the honey jug. It said a lot when the whole thing didn’t even tip a little under his weight. So he picked it up effortlessly and drowned his pancakes in it. The moment the liquid hit the plate Dean was on it. Sam didn’t suppose it would cause any real harm. It was all–natural, after all, right? He let his brother dabble in it for a while.

“I think that’s enough,” he said finally. Dean looked up at him with big, sparkly eyes and he had to remind himself to stay strong no matter what. “I can give you a bit of my pancake, you want?”

His brother nodded enthusiastically.

“Wow, he’s so smart!” the waitress was there again, deciding to show up in this exact moment. Sam swore inwardly. “It’s like he understands what you’re saying to him.”

He snorted. Yeah, maybe he did understand. But so what if he always chose to ignore everything anyway?

“You have no idea,” he muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he smiled. “I just guess every animal knows food language, you know?”

She giggled.

“Do you want anything else?”

“No, we’re good.”

She left again. Dean looked at Sam smugly.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a real chick magnet. Too bad you can’t do anything about it.”

Except fondle random girls’ breasts, apparently. And he suspected Dean knew it too.

 

 

Nothing was on TV. Nothing. But that was to be expected. Daytime.

He slid down even more, resting his head against the couch and closing his eyes. He felt his eyes drooping to the quiet sound of the television and some rustling undoubtedly caused by Dean in the background. Dean, who he couldn’t fondle even a little bit, which was no fun at all. He knew it was probably creepy, wanting to pet and hug and smother and kiss and nuzzle your older brother, but when the said brother had the cutest little paws and the cutest little nose and the cutest little ears and the cutest little everything how was one supposed to help themselves?

He felt sudden light pressure on his thigh then, distracting him from his musings. Still, he didn’t open his eyes. Even when he heard a tiny meow. And tiny limbs started pressing into the skin through his jeans. And a tiny creature started clawing its way up his shirt. And a warm, tickling ball settled in the crook of his neck and just stayed there contentedly. After what could’ve been two minutes, he finally dared to raise his hand and touch it softly. Dean didn’t startle, he was still resting there, breathing peacefully on his throat and brushing him with his whiskers. So he smoothed his hand down from the ears to the curled up tail. Then repeated it. By the third time, he felt vibrations going down his spine and a quiet purring filled his left ear. He smiled widely at the sound. He wanted to coo so bad, but realized it would be the death of him as soon as his brother turned back to normal.

The TV and the purring finally managed to put him down. But before he went completely under, he twisted his head and dropped an unconscious kiss onto Dean’s little silky head.


	2. Chapter 2

“You know what’s the weirdest thing about all this?” he asked, raising his head from the computer screen. He eyed Dean, nipping at the remains of Sam’s salad. “That you’re not even a grown cat. You’re a kitten. You,” he chucked at the glare. “It’s just all too sweet,” this time his brother ignored him. He swished his tail and jumped down from the table ungracefully, almost landing face first on the floor, making Sam want to pick him up and cuddle. He could still feel the warm, silky fur against his skin. Then Dean padded up to his leg and proceeded to wiggle inside his pants. Before he could do anything about it, tiny, but surprisingly sharp teeth were heavily assaulting the skin of his ankle. “Ow, Dean!”

At that a small brown furball torpedoed across the room and disappeared under the bed.

“You suck,” Sam whined and massaged his poor leg.

 

 

Dean lay on the covers splayed on his back; his incredibly soft–looking belly _right there_ on display, lighter in color than the rest of him. Sam had to be strong. Strong, goddamit! It was one thing to play with his paws or stroke his ears. After all, it was Dean, his brother, in there. And fondling his belly would really be a straight leap over to perversity. But then Dean stretched leisurely, yawned, blinked and dozed of again and all the rational thought fled from Sam’s head. Kneeling next to the bed, he tangled his finger in the velvety hair on his brother’s stomach. He could feel the skin underneath, the calm breaths, the _life_ in there. And Dean was so delicate right now, so vulnerable. And just do damn _cute_. And then he purred, his paws shooting in Sam’s direction. Definitely without murderous intentions. Sam was lost. He lowered his head, so the pads of his brother’s limbs could pat him on the face. And then they caught in his dangling hair. And Dean was still purring, sending slight vibrations up Sam’s fingers. His belly was almost hot. Then he sneezed, startling Sam into jumping back. His leg kicked against the bed, sending it into a rocking motion and making his brother fully wake up. Alert green eyes glanced at him, then looked around processing the situation. Finally Dean seemed to be satisfied. Sam couldn’t move, he just sat where he fell, resting on his elbows, and watched as his brother crept closer to the edge and jumped on his chest. Then he got closer to his face and propped up against his chin with two front paws. Sam had to cross his eyes to be able to look him in the face. Dean licked him on the nose and jumped down, disappearing into the bathroom.

“Huh,” Sam said and stayed on the floor.

 

 

He didn’t know what exactly did he expect. Maybe that after today Dean would at least sleep in one bed with him? But that was stupid, come on, seriously. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed when his brother clawed up his own bed and curled up on the pillow in the same manner as the night before. It took him a while before sleep finally overtook him after that.

 

 

His mind was still heavily sleep fogged the next morning. And really, since Dean turned into a cat, their wonderfully free days of vacation were even more tiring than usual, what with all the early wake up calls. This time there was a lot of pathetic meowing in his ear. He decided to ignore it; there was nothing urgent to do today. Then there was hair tugging. At that he only waved his hand in the general direction of the harassment. Then there was scratching on his arm. He growled and shook his brother off. Maybe a little too brutally, but for Christ’s sake, it was still dark outside!

When he thought it was finally over, he felt movement under the covers and suddenly there was a warm weight sitting on his _dick_ , of all places. His dick! Instantly awake, he ripped the covers off himself and looked down, where Dean was balancing on his pajama covered cock and staring at him menacingly.

“What– ”

He didn’t finish, because his brother’s intent made itself crystal clear when Dean raised one paw and extended his claws warningly. And even if they were small, they were also motherfucking sharp and even the thought of them anywhere near his dick made him freeze in terror.

“I’m up!” he yelled. “I’m up! Geroff, you bitch!”

Dean blinked lazily with his paw still up. At Sam’s terrified face he finally decided to have mercy and strut away, shaking his butt, apparently very proud of himself. Sam looked after him, shell–shocked. Then it turned out Dean needed him awake to open the bathroom door. And okay, maybe Sam indeed did prefer to be woken up early than undoubtedly find cat excrements in his shoes. He was fairly certain such actions weren’t above his brother, the vengeful idiot.

Whatever. Besides, he would much rather be pissed at Dean than think about how his cock expressed more interest in his brother’s proceedings than healthy.

 

 

Okay, just today, tomorrow and Bobby would be here. And then they could perform the ritual, destroy the artifact and Dean would be back to his usual self. And hopefully, they would never ever talk about the fact Sam was almost hooked on touching him whenever possible. Like probably ninety nine percent of the society, he also wasn’t immune to a little kitten’s charm. Just the way it was.

That’s why he was on the computer again, trying to distract himself. Otherwise he would just end up molesting his brother again. It took him a while to realize that the slight irregular tapping on the side of his boot was actually Dean hunting his laces. He felt his throat slam shut with the cute _slash_ hilarious overload. His brother was so consumed by his task he didn’t even notice Sam staring at him and stuffing his mouth with his fist in hopes of not making a sound. Dean finally got his claws in the material, tugging and hissing at it like it personally offended him. Then he started chewing, still not letting them out of his paws. He looked up, alerted by a snort, and saw Sam staring at him with tears in his eyes. He blinked, coughed and hid under the chair, ashamed. Not able to resist a second longer, Sam exploded with laughter. The back of his shin got punished for that.

“Dean, it’s okay,” he chuckled. “But you know, you could’ve just asked. I’d be more that happy to wave a string around for you.”

Not able to swear at him properly, Dean crawled from under the chair and stared at him murderously, ears folded against his head.

“Dude, you’re killing me,” Sam reached down to pat him on the little back. His brother shun away from the touch. He sighed. “Sorry.”

After Dean disappeared under the bed again, he went back to his research. But when he didn’t come out for the next hour, he got worried. He snapped the screen shut and went looking for him. The floor was disgustingly dirty and suspiciously sticky as he put his hand on it to peek under the bed. Not noticing the tiny kitten–shaped figure, he swore and yanked his duffle to check behind it. Too engrossed in his task, he barely noticed it hit the opposite wall. Still no Dean. And then he heard quiet mewling. He jerked his head in its direction. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it came from the inside of the bag he just threw against the wall. Crap.

Kneeling next to it, he noticed the zipper wasn’t pulled closed all the way. With his heart hammering mile a minute, he tugged it open. One of his t–shirts was shaking. As gently as possible, he unwrapped what turned out to be his missing brother.

“Oh, my God,” he gasped. “Dean, hell. Are you alright?”

“Murr,” his brother replied faintly, blinking dazedly. Nothing appeared to be broken, so Sam slid his hand under Dean’s body and drew him out of the duffel. Bringing him to his eye level, he examined him more closely, prodding with a finger delicately. That is, until his brother sneezed him in the eye. And again. Then looked at him with indignation and batted his finger away. Sam felt the little body grow taut and a second later Dean was situated on his head. When did that happen? Tiny claws held on to his hair and he did his best to remain motionless. He had no idea what his brother wanted.

“Motherfu–!” well, apparently he served as a trampoline now. Almost drawing blood, Dean pushed against his head and landed on the bed. It hurt! “You’re a monster!”

His brother meowed with satisfaction. Sam rolled his eyes and turned around, looking at his disemboweled duffel – evidently Dean’s latest favorite hangout place. He had no idea why that discovery made him feel all gooey inside.

 

 

“Either you eat this or you’re not eating at all,” Sam warned. He’s had enough of this diva behavior. Dean was scrunching up his nose distastefully at the can on the table. “Seriously, I know it looks like puke, but apparently it’s good for you. Your stomach, whatever,” he pressed. His brother looked at him pitifully, silently begging. He sighed. This gaze was making him squirm every time. He wanted to give the whole world to that gaze. And then some. But not this time. “Please, just eat it. Think of all the cheeseburgers you can get when you’re back to normal.”

That seemed to work a little, as Dean eyed the can thoughtfully, even if a bit warily, for the first time. Sam wouldn’t want to eat it either, but the girl at the store said it was full of nutrients kittens needed to grow properly. Growing was not the issue in this case, but it would at least fill Dean’s stomach. He couldn’t go three days only on milk after all, right?

First Dean poked the pulp with a paw. Then he nosed at it, distrustful. Only then did he finally lick it. Sam took it as a good sign his brother didn’t instantly spring aside. He let out a relieved breath when Dean started scooping the food. He wouldn’t die of starvation. That was a definite win.

 

 

The pull of disappointment wasn’t that strong today as it was yesterday when Dean buried himself in the other bed. Besides, Sam was exhausted. He was running around town in search of a pet shop for hours while his brother napped peacefully in his pocket. And when Dean went nearly ballistic at the sight of all the goldfish in the store, he had to hold the tiny wrenching body tightly, afraid of snapping it in half. Sleep overtook him almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. The rest was short lived, though, and when he woke up not long after, he wanted to howl. One night, that’s all he was asking for. He turned in Dean’s direction, but the fight left his body immediately when he spotted something wrong. Turning on the lamp, he rolled closer to the gap between the beds and eyed his brother. The little form was twitching, the tail swinging furiously, ears waggling. Then he heard a keen. It was probably what woke him up in the first place. He couldn’t bear hearing it again. It lacerated his heart.

Not waiting any longer, not thinking about it, he reached out and scooped Dean in his hand, once again marveling at how small he was. And how something that little could emanate so much warmth.

Almost as soon as his brother was against him, the trembling subsided. The tail was now only lazily sweeping through the air and the ears lay close to the head. Sam ran his fingers over them, smiling fondly at the purr. Carefully, he turned the lights off again and settled in the covers. Then he put Dean down on his chest, but couldn’t stop himself from lightly stroking the fur. Quiet purring and the feeling of warm silkiness under his fingers lulled him back to sleep.

 

 

Next time he woke up, the sun was high in the sky and he felt rested like never before. He lay there, looking up on the ceiling, when his brain finally caught up to the sound of a soft scuffle in the room. Sitting up, he cased the room and noticed a tiny brown tornado tormenting something on the floor. Watching the fight with an invisible opponent, he noticed he wasn’t as imaginary as he originally thought. There on the moldy carpet, Dean was hunting a huge fat spider. Sam cringed on instinct. The thing was almost as big as his brother, all black, which made it hard to be noticed at first against the current background. Few seconds later, couple of fast strikes from Dean’s side and the disgusting thing curled its legs up and froze. Sam didn’t know if he should feel proud or nauseous. He cried out in horror when he saw Dean readying himself to eat the damn thing. That startled his brother enough to leave his prey.

“I get it you’re hungry,” Sam guessed, his face still scrunched up involuntarily. Dean bounced happily to the foot of the bed, vanishing from sight for a while, then he was there again, balancing on the covers. He ran up Sam’s leg to prop himself against his stomach and look up with wide eyes. Sam bit his lip and picked his brother up, his windpipe clogged with mawkish affection. Dean rubbed his head against his hand ingratiatingly. The hand that feeds, so to say.

“This stuff is terrible,” he concluded, setting Dean on the table and opening a new can. Strong smell of cat food hit his nostrils. His brother nodded and dug in hungrily. “Why didn’t you wake me?” Sam asked. Dean only looked at him and somehow managed to express sarcasm and worry at the same time. While still being a cat. Quite a challenge. And of course Dean would notice he didn’t get much sleep lately. It _was_ Dean.

Leaving his brother to devour the rest of the food, he stepped in the bathroom. He almost tripped over the booster he set up for Dean in the bathtub, so he could get out after he was finished with… stuff. After taking it out, he rinsed the drain, getting rid of anything that could be his brother’s residue of any kind. Just in case.

 

 

Right when he was about to brush his teeth, he heard knocking. At the outside entrance. With a towel still around his waist, he stalked to the door and spotted Dean glued to the floor with his butt up in the air, tip of his tail doing circles when its owner glared holes in the wall. Correction, another spider. On the wall. Sam snapped his fingers, catching his brother’s attention. He motioned for him to get out of sight. With one last longing look at the spider, Dean waggled under the bed. Sam opened the door.

“Where is he?”

“Bobby?”

“You gonna let me in or what?”

He stepped aside and let the older hunter in.

“You’re early.”

“No kiddin’,” grumbled Bobby, looking around the room, searching. “The case took shorter than expected. I’m here. Where’s this idjit?”

Sam closed the door.

“Dean?”

Little head with flattened ears peeked out from underneath the bed. Bobby looked at it. It looked back. Bobby still looked, with an unreadable expression. Finally he shook his head.

“He’s damn adorable,” he stated begrudgingly. Dean hissed. Bobby smiled. Sam hasn’t seen him smile like that in a really long time. “You got pictures?”

“That’s a brilliant idea, actually,” Sam broke out in a grin and swiped his cell off the drawer. Before he managed to snap a shot, though, his brother already took a leap back under the bed. “Okay, no photos,” he said finally. After a while, Dean crept out of his hiding place doubtfully, ears still down. There was a flash and Sam’s cell memory had one more thing to hold. His brother sat on his feet and meowed unhappily.

“Be glad I didn’t perpetuate you when you were chasing my shoelaces,” Sam stated.

“Meow,” answered Dean ardently.

“I’m not deleting it,” he fought his case. “You know what? I think I’m even gonna make a wallpaper out of it.”

Dean yowled.

“Okay, you two,” Bobby cut in. “You wanna get this over with so we can actually do the job?”

Sam nodded. His brother clawed at his bare foot.

“Damnit, Dean!”

Except then his brother ran up to Bobby, the traitor, and jumped on his boot to rub against his ankle and it was obvious whose side their friend would be taking. Sam watched as a mauldin smile stretched Bobby’s lips and sighed.

“I’m gonna put on some clothes,” he announced. “Then we can go.”

Right before he closed the door to the bathroom, he heard Dean purr and he felt an insane rush of jealousy. He snorted at himself and proceeded to get dressed in some heavy layers.

 

 

“I’m gonna be tasting this crap for weeks, you dick,” Dean mumbled over a mouthful of toothpaste three days later. Fortunately by now Sam was as skilled at deciphering the gurgle language as he was at English.

“You’d rather be left to starvation?”

“Yes!”

God, sometimes he really missed the annoying big–eyed furball. At least it was mute. And fluffy. He had hard proof of that on his phone. That made for good retribution.


End file.
